Aftereffects
by B.A. Tyler
Summary: Post-war story; a sort-of sequel to “Stateside Yuletide.” The second M*A*S*H Reunion has the gang gathering in Maine on Independence Day, as Hawkeye harbors a secret.


**Aftereffects**

_(Author's Note: This is a sequel of sorts to "Stateside Yuletide." But while that story was light and cheery, be forewarned that this one is quite different in tone.)_

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_July 4, 1963__  
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_Hawkeye and B.J. walked leisurely, side by side, along the beach. To their left, the tide came in and went out, came in and went out. They were both barefoot and the sand was warm but not scorching, and it felt good. Everything about the day, Hawkeye decided, felt good. The sun was shining, the seagulls were cawing, and he was with dear friends. What more could he ask for?

The conversation with B.J. was lazy… familiar and soothing, like putting on a comfortable old sweatshirt after getting it out of storage. Catch-up stuff, like "How's your dad been?" and "What's Erin up to these days?" Good-natured insults and sarcasm, like "Yes, Beej, that's called a seashell. I'm willing to bet you have those on the west coast too." They hadn't lost their ease with one another, their rhythm, even though they rarely saw each other anymore. As they had from the very beginning, they still clicked.

"Another rousing success," B.J. said, nodding his head in the direction of Klinger, Radar, and Margaret, who were romping further up the beach with their charges for the day, eight children from the local orphanage. Col. Potter and Father Mulcahy were sitting nearby on beach chairs, drinking soda from bottles and supervising. Charles couldn't make it to this, the second M*A*S*H Reunion, because he'd just had back surgery a week before and was still laid up.

The last time they'd gathered together to bring a little cheer to a bunch of orphans, it'd been Christmas 1958, in Hannibal, Missouri. This year, since the meeting place was Crabapple Cove, Maine, they wisely decided to nix the wintertime visit, given how nasty the weather could get in December. It was Radar, of course, who'd had the foresight to suggest a midsummer meeting; perhaps his ability to predict events could actually extend out months, for all Hawkeye knew. But it'd been a sensible suggestion, to be sure, and they all agreed to shift their reunion from Christmas to July 4th.

A picnic on the beach, happy kids frolicking with equally happy adults, the laze and haze of a perfect summertime day.

"Yeah," Hawkeye agreed, "those kids are having a blast. Feels good, to give them a day out like this." He was looking down as they strolled, watching to make sure he didn't step on any sharp shells, and suddenly something caught his eye, bringing a smile to his face. Up ahead a little, some wit had written 'Best Care Anywhere' in the sand. He would bet money it was Klinger.

"Great to see everyone again, too," B.J. continued. "I actually miss Charles, believe it or not."

"Would've been nice to see the ol' blowhard again, yeah. That back's been bothering him since Korea, though. I'm glad he finally had it taken care of."

"I'll call him when I get back home," B.J. said, soccer-kicking at a shell. "Make sure he's recovering OK."

They fell silent for a moment. Hawkeye waited, becoming a little tense. He knew B.J. like the back of his hand… he knew that the small talk would come to an end eventually and his friend would finally get up the nerve to broach the subject. Hawkeye wished he could avoid the conversation, but he knew B.J. all too well. He would ask the question. It was inevitable.

"So…" B.J. began tentatively, and Hawkeye laughed. They always had been on the same wavelength, and today was no exception. B.J. glanced over at him, probably realizing that Hawkeye knew what was coming, but forging ahead anyway. "Why did you do it, Hawk?"

Another laugh, this time a nervous one. "Beej…" he trailed off, not sure exactly how to proceed.

"I talked with Sidney the other day. He said that the two of you had a long phone conversation. Three hours long, he said."

"And? Did he have a diagnosis? What did he say, midlife crisis? Depression? Do tell."

B.J. stopped walking, forcing Hawkeye to do the same. They looked squarely at each other. "We're all worried about you, that's all. It was a shock. Actually, if you really want to know, Sidney said you sounded good. He said you seem happy about your decision, like a new man."

Hawkeye felt his shoulders relax, felt some of his tension ease. "Good. Because I _am_ very happy with my decision, and you guys shouldn't be worried about me. Really."

"So you're happy teaching, then? And you don't miss medicine at all?"

Hawkeye spread his hands, trying his best to appear content and confident… to look exactly the opposite of how he felt. "I love teaching. It's been great. And no, I don't miss being a doctor." He tried an easy smile but it didn't quite work. "Honest."

B.J. was watching him closely. Hawkeye could almost see the little thought bubble above his head, the one that said: _Is he lying? Why do I have the feeling he's lying?__  
_  
Never could get much past this guy.

"High school, though—and American lit," B.J. said with a tilt of his head. "Why not college or med school? Why not teach future doctors? I'm just trying to understand, Hawk. You can imagine how it looks to us. We don't see you or hear from you much, and you make this drastic life change out of the blue… I think it's natural for us to be concerned."

Hawkeye still had the plastic smile pasted on his face. He looked away, at the surf, and carefully said, "I love teaching kids that young. And American lit? It's fun, it's a nice change of pace. I know it seems like this came out of left field, but I actually thought about it for a long time."

_Sterile, bright operating room… gowned up in white, scalpel in hand, poised over a young man of 26. Just cut into him and take out his appendix… simple operation… one of the simplest, as a matter of fact. Just go ahead and do it. Sweat breaking out on his brow… his hands shaking a little at first, and then a lot. The nurse to his right asking, "Are you all right, Doctor?" Vision going gray… feeling very hot and claustrophobic… hearing bombs exploding in the distance, but that couldn't be… this was Maine and it was __years__ after the war. "Doctor?" the nurse tried again. He was burning hot and his knees were wobbly, and he found he couldn't speak. He looked at the nurse but nothing would come out of his mouth. He threw the scalpel down and bolted from the room then, leaving the operation for another surgeon, somebody more competent, more in control… somebody who could do it. Because suddenly he couldn't.__  
_  
He blinked back to the present and focused on B.J.'s face. "It was time for a change in my life. Hell, if my dad can accept it, then you should be able to accept it. All right?" Anger had seeped into his voice and he made an effort to tone it down. "Sorry, Beej. I know you're just being a friend. But there's no need for you to worry. Everything's fine."

B.J. nodded, apparently taking him at his word. Mercifully, he dropped the subject, segueing smoothly into, "Sidney's sure doing great, isn't he? Publishing his third book this fall, he told me. Busy beaver, that guy."

"Sidney's the best," Hawkeye confirmed as the two of them began walking again. "It's sweet of him to keep tabs on me like he does. Or maybe he's doing it for purely selfish reasons… maybe he's secretly writing a book about me. 'The Effect of War on the Psychologically Unstable Surgeon: Exhibit A.'"

B.J. stopped walking again, and dammit, the subject wasn't closed after all. "How would that book end, I wonder?" he asked, back to watching his friend a little too closely.

"It's a happily-ever-after ending, Beej. Or as close to one as a screwball like me can get." Hawkeye shrugged and looked at the kids playing on the beach with Radar, Klinger, and Margaret. They were close enough now that he could hear their laughter. "Let's join them, OK? Play some Frisbee?" He didn't wait to see if B.J. was agreeable to that; he started walking toward the others, leaving his friend trailing behind.

_Hanging up the phone after the hours-long conversation with Sidney… sweat running down his back… needing a drink desperately. Grabbing and downing a beer… then sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor because it's just where he happened to land… tears pooling in his eyes but he would not, would not, would not let them fall. All that lying to Sidney, all the false cheer... for __hours__. It had exhausted him. Suddenly he couldn't move, so he shut his eyes and sprawled out on the cool kitchen floor, falling into a fitful sleep, the beer bottle at his side. 'I love teaching, Sidney.' 'The kids are so fun and challenging. I feel like I'm a teenager again!' Lies… lies. __  
_  
"Hey, I've got a Frisbee!" he called to the gang as he approached them.

And he picked up the Frisbee and tossed it to Klinger, who caught it and tossed it to Margaret, and so they went around the large circle, kids and adults alike laughing and having a good time. Hawkeye didn't look in B.J.'s direction, didn't need to see the furrowed brow, didn't want to talk about his sudden career change anymore, didn't want to have to keep lying about why he'd given up medicine. He just watched the Frisbee sail through the air, listening to the laughter and enjoying the warm sun on his face.

Today the sun was shining and he was with friends and he felt good.

_Saying goodbye to B.J. at the airport, that plastic smile on his face again… "It was a great visit, Beej—lots of fun. Come out again soon." Standing there watching as the last of his 4077th colleagues boarded his plane and departed for home… knowing that even though they always talked about getting together more often, it never happened. Feeling horribly empty all of a sudden. Feeling the familiar wave of hopelessness descend over him, the void that was his life now. Turning and heading for the exit, desperate to leave before he started to cry and brought unwanted attention to himself. Practically sprinting for the exit.__  
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__And then stopping dead in his tracks once he stepped outside. Looking up into the sky as the first drops of a summer rain began to fall._

_They mixed with his tears._


End file.
